


Keeping Steady

by pvradise



Series: Even When The World's Falling [1]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment, wrestling - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Idiots in Love, Love/Hate, M/M, Why Did I Write This?, but he does and he hates it, dean doesn't wan't to face his problems, roman is kinda hot and cold in this, they're all sad and angry and in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:20:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24401953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pvradise/pseuds/pvradise
Summary: Roman tips his head towards the ceiling like he's sending a prayer to the Gods before his eyes find Dean again. He feels like he has nothing left to give because loving and hating Dean has completely consumed him.He wishes things could be different — like they used to be. He wishes he could look at Dean without feeling empty inside. He wishes he could make whatever storm going on inside his head vanish.He wished a lot of things that he just couldn’t do.
Relationships: Dean Ambrose | Jon Moxley/Roman Reigns, Dean Ambrose | Jon Moxley/Roman Reigns/Seth Rollins | Tyler Black, Dean Ambrose | Jon Moxley/Seth Rollins | Tyler Black
Series: Even When The World's Falling [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1709941
Comments: 11
Kudos: 26





	Keeping Steady

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kingvandam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingvandam/gifts).



> Hi! I wrote some of this last year and didn't get the motivation to finish it until recently. The events in this fic aren't accurate at all, of course, it's just a fic. I do want to dedicate this story to @kingvandam because they've been putting out a ton of great content during this time and it’s inspired me to finish this!
> 
> This is my first wrestling fic so feedback will be much appreciated! And as always, constructive criticism is welcomed!!
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr @undisputedshield!

**“𝐊 𝐄 𝐄 𝐏 𝐈 𝐍 𝐆 𝐒 𝐓 𝐄 𝐀 𝐃 𝐘"**

after| _sometime in_ _February 2019_

_"even strong hearts break"_

_-_ r.h Sin

_☽_

Dean Ambrose was sure of two things in life: wrestling and his brothers.

After all the hell he's endured, he felt like he was owed this. That out of all the fucked up cards life had dealt him he was owed these two things. And he'll be dammed if that was taken from him too.

But life didn't care.

Not when he busted his ass to make a name for himself. Not when he decided to walk out on his brothers in the middle of a war. Not when Seth took a chair to his back. Not when he almost died trying to get back to this, to _them._

And certainly not now.

"You can't be serious," Roman cuts a beautiful picture in the middle of the hallway, his features marred by frown lines and consuming anger. He leans back against the wall, so casually, with his arms crossed tightly against his chest. He's got his hair pulled back and his white t-shirt is working overtime against his tense muscles. "You can't be leaving, man."

Dean doesn't know what to say, feels like now isn't the time to talk about this, but Roman's insistent on having this conversation in the middle of the hallway. He didn't even wait until they got into the locker room before he had a tight grip around Dean's forearm.

Dean drums his fingers on his collarbone and stretches his neck. He was tired and hungry and he didn't feel like getting into it with Roman. But that was Roman’s thing — had always been. The way he could root Dean to the spot with one hard look or the way he could make him do things he wouldn’t normally do.

He hated it, and he hated him for making him feel this way.

"Can we — not here,” Dean pushes off of the wall, uneasiness swirling in his stomach. He rubs the spot where Roman's hand had been just moments ago — but not because it hurt. "We're in the middle of the fucking hallway."

"Like I care," Roman scoffs, irritation pooling in his brown eyes. It was an emotion Dean didn't see too often, and he prepared himself for the worst. "You could have said something, like I don't know, months ago?"

Dean's mouth opens and closes in the same breath. Because what the fuck was he supposed to say? 

He never wanted to hurt them, so he did what he thought was best. Then again, he’s never had good judgment.

“Fuck, man...” Dean swallows his nerves and thinks carefully over his next words. “...look ‘m sorry, really. The past few months have just been crazy and I didn't want to put more stress on you.”

It was true. That was what he kept telling himself, that he didn't want to put more stress on Roman. Roman had so much to deal with already. But deep down inside, he knew that wasn't the only reason.

Roman eats up the space between them with long strides, and before Dean knows it, his face is sandwiched between Roman’s warm hands. He closes his eyes and allows himself to settle in the moment. To take everything in before it all changed.

”Dean...” Roman begins softly. His fingers brush against Dean’s cheek with the same tone of his words. ”You know me better than that. It wouldn't have mattered.”

Dean did know Roman, and he wanted to believe it wouldn’t have mattered. They usually didn't argue much because Roman was easy company, and Dean thought he was pretty cool on his best days. After all, they were best friends and they've traveled the world together. But that was then and this is now, and Dean knew that things were different these days.

The fog in Dean’s head clears and he pushes against Roman’s chest until he feels like he isn't suffocating. Until he feels like he can look at Roman without falling apart. Roman's face falls but he crosses back over to his side, leaning against the wall. 

”It would have,” Dean takes in a big breath because being around Roman did things to his head. Things that had him wishing everything could be different. ”Everything was going to shit! You think that I wanted to be selfish during the most difficult time of your life?”

Roman pinches the bridge of his nose, heaving a loud and long sigh filled with nothing but sadness. There was so much he wanted to say, so much that needed to be said, but he knew Ambrose well enough to know that he was fighting a losing battle.

”It’s not selfish, _Dean_ ,” he manages through clenched teeth. Superstars pass by them without notice and Roman wonders if things only seem like a train wreck to him. ”You've made a career-changing decision without even so much as a fucking whisper to me or Seth.”

Dean chokes out a bitter laugh. _Impossible._ ”Oh, fuck off. I don't have to tell you anything. And Seth's too busy being top guy to even care anymore.”

”Is that what you think, Uce? That he doesn't care? That _I_ don't care?”

Dean steps back to allow a few of the crew by with carts that have parts of the ring tucked on it and contemplates Roman’s words. ”No.....I don't know.”

Roman tilts his head to the side and stares at Dean like he’s a puzzle that he just can't solve — and truthfully, he was. It had been like this for some time. Roman fighting to keep Dean from pulling away. He was doing the very thing Roman was always afraid when he first met him: running away.

Roman runs his tongue over his bottom lip, glances to side to see Charlotte and Andrade stealing kisses and touches that is only a promise for more, and back to the eyes that can hide a storm inside them.

His heart clenches.

”You’ve gotta give me something here, man.”

”What is it that you want? You want me to apologize? Hell no.”

”I just want you to be honest with me! I want —” Roman catches himself in the moment, makes sure he’s staring straight into Dean’s eyes. He can feel the storm coming. ”I want to know that I’m not in this alone.”

Dean just huffs out a laugh and walks off like nothing ever happened.

”Are you — Dean! Don't walk away from me.”

Dean throws a middle finger behind his shoulder because _fuck it_ , and continues walking until he’s pushing on the door of their shared locker room. It clashes with the wall and swings back, hitting Roman — who’s right on Dean’s heels, the bastard — in the face.

Dean feels his breath catch his throat when he sees Seth’s bag on the chair next to his stuff. He notes that it’s wide open, so he must be somewhere around.

"You are unbelievable.”

”Yeah, yeah.”

Dean waves Roman off and starts rummaging through his suitcase. Somewhere along the way when Dean finds what he’s looking for, Roman starts running his mouth again.

"I just don’t get you sometimes, ya know? It’s like you’re trying to piss me off...”

Dean bites back a laugh and just shakes his head. If anything, _Roman_ was unbelievable. Roman had no right to demand things from him the way he had just because it was _him_ who was demanding it. Dean was tired of sticking his neck out and getting his heart torn in the process. 

Dean stretches to his full height and throws his new shirt and jeans on the chair, sparing a glance at Roman who’s pressed against the wall near the door with his ankles crossed.

”You wanna stay for the show or what?” Dean coolly says and reaches for his zipper.

Roman raises an eyebrow, unfazed. He flexes his jaw and drags his eyes across Dean’s frame lazily. It isn't soft and caring like Dean’s used to, but he still feels his skin heat up under the intensity of his gaze.

Roman wouldn't do anything even if he wanted to. Dean knew that, but it doesn't mean he couldn't hate him for it.

_Best friends_. That's all they'd ever be. And even that seemed to be withering away as the days went on. 

”You really wanna avoid this?”

Dean cuts a heavy sigh, pulling his shirt over his head. _God_ , he just wouldn't shut up. ”No, Ro. I just did all of that because I _really_ wanna talk about it.”

Roman rubs his hand across his jaw. ”When Seth finds out...”

”He probably already knows — and who gives a shit?”

He’s kicking out of his pants and wants nothing more than for the feeling in his chest to subside.

Wants nothing more than for Roman to make it go away. But he can’t, or won’t. _Fuck_.

And maybe that was the problem, too. How far away Roman felt even though they were in the same room. How much his heart aches for him even though it had no right to.

Dean would admit, he was fucking miserable. But Roman couldn’t know that. Not right now at least.

”Is it so hard to talk to me, Dean?”

Dean throws his arms up, exasperated. “I am talking to you. But you wanna talk about shit that’s pissin’ me off.”

Roman tips his head towards the ceiling like he's sending a prayer to the Gods before his eyes find Dean again. He feels like he has nothing left to give because loving and hating Dean has completely consumed him. He wishes things could be different — like they used to be. He wishes he could look at Dean without feeling empty inside. He wishes he could make whatever storm going on inside his head vanish.

He wished a lot of thing he just couldn’t do. Even if he wanted to. He shakes his head, willing himself to look at Dean.

”Answer something for me, Dean.”

Dean grimaces. "Sure, Roman, why the hell not."

Roman slips his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. ”Before—” he takes in a deep breath, reliving the events again, and Dean fights the urge to comfort him. “—before I left, did you know you wanted out?”

Dean feels his heart drop to the pit of his stomach, and suddenly, a wave of nausea hits him. He feels himself sway slightly and he grips the top of the steel chair to keep himself steady.

Roman narrows his eyes but doesn’t say anything. He looks like a God even under the ugly fluorescent lights, and Dean hates the way his stomach flutters.

He hates the way his heart beats for him even when he doesn't want it to.

Dean turns around and wiggles into his long- sleeve shirt. “Why?”

”Because it’s important.” Roman’s tone is even, but it’s got enough edge to make Dean feel like there’s no going back.

Dean drags his sleeve across his eyes — he doesn’t know why his eyes are wet, but whatever — and turns back toward the one person he could never lie to.

”Before I even came back, Roman.”

Dean feels like his whole world is on the brink of shattering. Roman doesn’t say anything, just nods his head absently, but Dean notices the way his jaw is working, the way his muscle tense under his shirt.

“Just let it out.”

”What?”

Dean steps into his jeans. “You’re angry. Let. It. Out.”

Roman’s laugh is humorless, and his eyes are wild with pain and anger. Dean puts his head down to keep himself from breaking.

“You let me think I had something to come back to,”Roman’s low voice cuts through the silence. His arms fall limp at his sides. “ _Someone_ to come back to.”

”C’mon that's not fair, Ro.”

_Fair doesn't even scratch the surface,_ Dean thinks. _Not when you have been the one thing keeping me sane. When you've been the one thing keeping me here._

”Fair?” Roman’s voice is like ice and Dean’s insides turn cold. ”I had to find out that my best friend is leaving from a tweet. A fucking _tweet,_ Dean. How is that fair?”

”I tried to tell you — Seth too. I just couldn't.”

”And why not?”

Dean’s eyes fall shut and all he can see is the times they’re driving from city to city with laughs on their tongues and happiness in their eyes. All he can see is how far they’ve fallen.

He doesn’t know what to do or how to make it right.

”Why not, Dean?” Roman presses.

”Because this is what I want, Ro. It's what I need. And I'm scared that if I tell you I can't take another damn day here that that's it."

Before Roman can respond, the door to the room pushes open and Seth walks in without a clue in the world. His eyes are glued to his phone, wet hair falling around his face like a curtain and a towel is slung across his neck. Seth bites out a small laugh, typing furiously on his phone.

Roman just snorts because his timing was always shitty.

“Oh, hey guys,” Seth falls into the chair next to Dean and pockets his phone. He leans down to grab a water bottle from his bag. He puts it to his lips for a moment before he actually notices how Roman and Dean are eye-murdering him. “What?”

Roman rolls his eyes and slips out the door before Dean can stop him.

“What did you do?” Seth asks around a few sips of his water.

Dean glares at Seth with everything he’s got. Truthfully, he looks more like he’s trying to. All his anger dissipated the moment Roman left. “Why the hell do you think I did something?”

Seth places the bottle back in his bag. “Because he’s only pissy when it comes to you. You know this.”

Dean runs a hand down his face, figures he's had enough of this shit for the night, and judging by his calm behavior, Seth probably doesn't know either. Dean runs a million ideas through his head on how to break it to him without causing a shitstorm in the locker room. Things were never easy with Seth. _Never._ When it came to Seth, Dean had a short fuse and because of this, he liked the idea of not being in a room with Seth for more than thirty minutes.

Dean felt like an asshole sometimes. He knew Seth was sorry for fucking up his life, and yeah, he did forgive him way back, but it was never the same. It always felt like he had to watch his back and be extra cautious. Sometimes he wondered if Seth enjoyed keeping him on his toes. 

Dean's grunts out a sigh and slumps into the chair next to Seth. He tips the chair back and rocks slightly, staring at the door Roman slipped out of. 

”Nothing like a good ’ole lovers quarrel.” Seth laughs.

Dean kicks Seth in the leg. ”Shut up.”

Seth laughs again and Dean finds it hard to feel anything because he was about to ruin it. 

"I should, uh, probably tell you why he's so upset."

Seth stares at Dean expectantly. "Damn, you're kinda scaring me." Seth jokes, but his eyebrows pull together and his lips settle into a thin line. 

"Look," Dean begins, righting himself in the chair. "I know things between us haven't been easy lately, or ever really, but we're good. I care about you."

Dean winces at his words. He sounded like an idiot. With Roman everything _was_ usually easy, felt like he was at home. With Seth, it always felt forbidden, like something that wasn't supposed to happen but would always find a way to.

And Dean cherished that. 

Seth leans his elbows on his thighs and rests his chin in his hand, a strange expression crossing his face.

"...you're my brother, Seth. Always have been, always will be,” Dean pauses and licks his lips. He hated this. ”And that's why I have to tell you that I'm not re-signing."

Seth makes noise in the back of his throat and just stares right through Dean. Dean doesn't know whether or not he's going to laugh and brush it off or get up and punch him. His hands clench at his sides.

"Well, I can't say I'm surprised." Seth says after a moment. He looks away from Dean and pulls at the towel around his neck, wringing it between his fingers. "You haven't been _you_ for some time."

_Yeah,_ Dean thinks. _I haven't_.

"Seth..."

"It's fine, Ambrose, really."

And Dean knows the conversation is over and will never be touched again. Seth throws on a Black and Brave t-shirt and shoots Dean a closed-lip smile.

"I'm catching a ride with Cesaro, so I'll talk to you later, yeah?"

He claps Dean on the shoulder — a little too harshly — and quickly leaves.

And just like that he was gone, too.


End file.
